C - Catching Colds
by Bdoyle
Summary: The family's been invited to Mack and Yoyo's pool opening party, but someone's got a bad cold


**C – Catching Colds**

Phil rolled over and rubbed one eye, awakened by the sudden beam of light from the master bathroom. It wasn't unusual for May to make a visit during the night but it was odd that she had turned on the light. He could hear here fumbling with something in the medicine cabinet.

"May?" he called softly, "everything okay?" His eyes were closed but he listened for her reply. He opened them again as she flicked the light off and held up her trusty little white 'someone's got a fever' case.

"Skye?" he guessed, rising up on one elbow.

"Sound asleep," she answered as she started for the door.

"Fitz," he stated, throwing off the blanket. May would need help with the boy, unless he was as sick as he had been a few months ago. That in itself was frightening and could mean a trip to the ER. He glanced at the clock on the nightstand.

"No, Phil." Melinda stopped and spoke quietly. "Jemma's up. She's been coughing since dinner. I found her in the bathroom trying to quell it with gulps of water. She feels warm to me. I just want to be safe. I'll call Dr. Stephens as soon as the office is opened."

Phil stopped at the edge of the bed looking over his shoulder at his wife. He nodded as she exited the room and fell back against his pillow. He lay there half on the bed with his feet over the edge and considered getting something for the splitting headache that felt like it was melting his eyes then sneezed himself into a sitting position. After three more he dragged himself to the bathroom and flicked on the blinding light. There had to be something in there for headache accompanied by violent sneezing. He started fingering through the variety of boxes and bottles in his search.

A few minutes later he paced nervously outside his older daughter's room, stopping when May slipped into the hall and closed the door silently. She turned to him and immediately put a finger over her lips signaling him to be silent.

"How is she?" He whispered hoarsely.

She stared at him for a second before answering. "One hundred point five, I gave her some Tylenol® and rubbed her chest with some menthol." Phil nodded, sure his wife was doing what was best for their daughter. "It's probably just a cold, but don't want it to get worse."

"No," Phil shook his head, regretting it immediately. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them quickly when Melinda placed her hand on his forehead.

"You feel a little warm, too, daddy." May frowned.

"I'm fine," Phil held out a hand and took a step back eyeing Melinda's little white case tucked neatly under her arm. "Took some of that cold medicine in the bathroom…few hours sleep and I'll be good as new.

"Great, then let's get back to bed before we wake up the whole crew." She grabbed his arm and led him back toward their room.

A few hours later Melinda stood in the kitchen sipping a cup of tea. Jemma's temperature had gone back up to one hundred point five but she had few symptoms other than that very tight cough. She wasn't complaining of a sore throat or stuffy nose. Another dose of fever reducing medication and some menthol rub pacified the little girl who drifted back to sleep in relief. Dr. Stephens agreed it was probably a chest cold but just to be sure it didn't become something worse she prescribed an antibiotic and an expectorant to ease the coughing. Unlike her younger siblings Jemma had no problem taking medication as directed. The physician's office called the medications into the pharmacy where Melinda could pick them up in a few hours. She picked up her head as Fitz wandered into the kitchen, yawning and rubbing one eye.

"Good morning," Melinda greeted her drowsy little boy.

"G'morn," Fitz answered, shuffling his bare feet across the tile. Melinda almost laughed at how he always looked so skinny still clad in pajamas. He slid onto a chair and dropped his head on the table.

"Maybe not so good, huh?" Melinda smiled as she bent down and kissed the back of his head. He whined a bit and waved her off with one hand. "Maybe you need to go back to bed for a little bit."

"No, I'm awake." The boy raised his head and rested it on one hand. "Today's Mack's party right?" He brightened up a bit, popping up straight with a huge smile.

"Ah, Fitz, about that…" Melinda started, hating to disappoint the boy who'd been looking forward to this party for so long.

"Mama!" Skye squealed as she scampered into the room wearing nothing but a white camisole. The tiny pink rose that decorated the very front bobbed up and down as she raced into her mother's arms.

Melinda set down her cup and scooped her baby girl up, wrapping her robe around her as Fitz covered the giggle that escaped him with both hands. Melinda scowled at him over her baby's head, trying to hide her own smile. "Where are your clothes, baobei?" She asked the small child.

"Them is all wet," Skye frowned.

Melinda let out a fluttery breath. Great, a sick husband, one sick child and now she had to strip Skye's bed and wash all of the bedding. Thank goodness for plastic mattress covers!

"Fizz dood it," the little girl frowned as she leaned back to glare at her brother. Melinda raised her eyebrows and Skye nodded.

"Fitz wet your bed?" Melinda almost laughed.

"She dint wee her bed, mom." Fitz rested his fists on his temples and shook his head.

"No my bed, he no made my bed wet. Fizz maked my panamas all wet." Skye explained.

"I most certainly did not!" The boy protested, dropping his hands to the table and looking at her with wide eyes. "She just invited herself right into the loo just as I was cleaning my hands and I guess I hadn't put down the lid and she just plopped into the bowl." The little boy demonstrated with his hands. Melinda bit her lip as she listened to his explanation. "I did attempt to fish her out, but she made such a racket, ya think I was tryin a drown her. It isn't my doing that her bum is so little she drops right down inside."

"There you are!" Trip rushed into the room, almost out of breath holding a small pair of panties and dry pajamas. "I heard the commotion in the bathroom and found these two swimming in the bowl." He explained.

"We were not swimming," Fitz countered. "I was trying to get Skye out of the toilet. She was a bit slippery and I didn't want to be just as wet."

"Well, you made enough noise and it took three towels to wipe up all the water." Trip informed him.

"She was squirming about like a frightened fish, of course there was water. It's a toilet bowl, but the water was clean." Fitz spread his arms and shook his head. "Good thing ya came along, Trip. Ya make a fine life guard." The little boy smiled at his brother's snarl.

"Why'd ya run off, baby girl? I told you I'd get dry clothes." Trip shook his head at the small child wrapped in her mother's robe.

"You no looka my unnerwears, Trip. I toed you a lotsa times." Skye bounced her hands at the older boy.

"Why's it you don't care if old Fitzie here sees your 'unnerwears'?" Trip jerked a thumb at the boy giggling into his hands at the table.

"Frip," Skye drew out his name and turned her head to the side as if she were scolding him. "Fizz is like-a me and you is like-a Mack." She finished as if he should just know without being told.

Trip pulled his head back in shock, "Wooo-eeee, our baby girl is racist?" Melinda furrowed her brows at her little one. Where could Skye get an idea like that?

Fitz slapped a hand on his forehead and rolled his eyes. "Don't be daft, ya dunderhead, she means your big like him and I'm little like her. Skye doesn't even know you're black."

"I is not a raisin, Frip and you is no black." She reached out and stroked her big brother's cheek. "You is bow-ow-an."

Melinda let her head fall onto Skye's little chest and hid her laugh while Fitz once again doubled over in laughter while Trip just shook his head. He couldn't imagine why anyone would ever not want this little imp that he was lucky enough to call baby sister. She had him wrapped around his little finger and he didn't care who knew it.

The older boy held out his arms to Skye. "Come on, little girl. Let's get you dressed." He held out the clothing and she leaned out to him reaching with both arms.

Fitz let loose another cackle of laughter gaining everyone's attention. "She won't let him see her undergarments but she dives right to him in her birthday suit." With that he rolled off the chair onto the floor and continued laughing hysterically.

"Enough, Fitz. Get off the floor," Melinda smiled, shook her head and reached for the items. She held on to Skye and spoke to Trip. "You sit down. Have some juice and give the joker some, too. I'll take care of this." She took the clothing from him and carried Skye to the powder room.

"It my birday, mama?" Skye wondered as they exited the kitchen.

A few minutes later Melinda returned with a fully dressed Skye. She plopped the little girl in her chair and turned to Trip. "Can you keep an eye on these two for a couple minutes while I throw on some clothes? I'll wake up Phil so I can run to the pharmacy for Jemma's prescriptions."

"Can we have Froot Loops®?" Fitz smiled.

Melinda pulled the cereal from the cupboard and grabbed three bowls as she walked to the table. Fitz and Skye reached for the box that she held out of reach and handed to Trip. Fitz frowned and fell back in his chair with a mean pout. Skye reached for her favorite pink cereal bowl.

"Jemma's sick?" Trip was alarmed. Jemma never got sick.

"Probably just a cold, but we want to be sure it doesn't get worse." Melinda smiled at his concern for the younger kids. "I'll be quick." She assured him as she passed him a bottle of milk and four spoons then turned to leave the room.

"We'll be okay, no problems." Trip called after her.

"I want Foop Loops too, Frip." Skye squealed.

Melinda dressed quickly, throwing on sweats and a T-shirt. She tied her hair back in a ponytail. It was only a quick trip to the drug store, in and out at the drive through and she'd be back before Jemma woke again. Probably best to stop at the deli for some chicken soup, it was quicker than making it today. Maybe she could send Trip and Fitz to Mack's place. He and Yoyo wouldn't mind looking after then and Trip could keep his brother in line. Hundreds of thoughts ran through her head about how to handle the craziness that would be her day. She could hear Skye wailing as the boys set out for the party without her and wondered just how to amuse the little one all day while keeping her away from daddy and Jemma. Was it fair to ask Elena to deal with that little bundle of energy while entertaining…no way, Skye would have to deal.

"Phil," she bent and whispered close to his ear. "Phil, come on it's time to get up. I have to go out. The kids are downstairs." He groaned once and rolled away from her. Melinda set her hands on her hips and turned up one side of her mouth. "Phil," she spoke louder. "You need to get up." He rolled back and forced open his blood shot eyes.

He pulled himself up then closed his eyes and brought his hand to his head. That skull cracking pain was back with a vengeance. "Gimme a minute," he croaked as he threw his legs over the side of the bed and wobbled back and forth before attempting to stand. He only made a few inches off the mattress before dropping back with a hoarse groan.

"Crap!" Melinda snapped as she pressed her lips against his forehead then stormed into the bathroom returning with two capsules and a glass of water. "Take these. They'll help." She held them out to him. He squinted up at her and did as he was told, swallowing the pills and handing back the glass that she set on the nightstand next to him. "Never mind, Phil, lay back and close your eyes. I'll pick up some stronger cold tablets for you as well." He nodded once as he fell back on to his pillow and threw his arm over his eyes.

"How's Jemma?" He managed to croak before she pulled on her sneakers.

"She's asleep. I'm going to pick up the medicine Maura called in for her. Trip can handle the little ones, I won't be long."

Phil nodded as she closed the door.

Fitz munched his Froot Loops® as he watched Skye pick all the green rings out of the bowl before she would allow Trip to pour on milk. "You know," he swallowed and raised another spoonful holding it in front of his mouth. "They're all the same flavor." He popped the spoon into his mouth and chewed loudly.

"I no like-a the breen ones." Skye informed him without looking up from her task.

"You eat green beans." Fitz pointed out around his mouthful.

"Bean breens is not cerul, Fizz. Foop Loops is cerul and breen ones is not good."

Trip just shook his head and gathered the green cereal bits from the table, dropping them into his bowl. Fitz shrugged his shoulders and shoveled more into his mouth, even the green ones.

Melinda hurried back into the room. "Trip, little change of plans. Think you can hold the fort while I run to the store. I promise I'll be fast."

"Mom, you need to buy cereal that has no green pieces." Fitz informed her.

"Okay, sweetie. I'll look for some." She answered automatically as she breezed around the table planting a kiss on each head. "Thanks Trip, you are a trouper." She hurried out the back door.

"Can I pour the milk, Skye?" Trip asked the little girl who was combing through the bowl of cereal.

"If she finds a green one after you pour the milk, she'll not eat any of it." Fitz informed his older brother. "She thinks it makes the milk taste green." He tilted his head at Trip and reached to pour himself a second bowl.

When Melinda returned Trip had cleaned the kitchen and kept his younger siblings occupied in the family room with various toys and games. He was presently seated cross legged on the floor with Skye in his lap, constructing an elaborate Lego structure with Fitz directing the placement of each piece. She called in to let him know she was back.

Phil trudged down the stairs in his stocking feet and shuffled into the kitchen. Melinda rolled her eyes and shook her head. "What are you doing up?"

"It's just a head cold, Mel." He spoke nasally. I really could use a coffee and maybe something to eat."

"How 'bout some tea with honey and lemon?" Melinda suggested.

"How about some green Froot Loops?" Fitz asked from behind. "We've got a lot of them. Trip and I picked every single one out of the box. There were one hundred twenty-seven and that's not counting the pieces Skye picked from her bowl." He frowned. "Trip ate those." He picked up the zip lock baggie from the counter and shook it at his dad.

Phil looked at the little boy and the baggie. "I think I'll pass, buddy."

Fitz put a hand to the side of his mouth and whispered, "they all taste the same, you know."

Phil raised his eyebrows and nodded. Melinda smiled as she put away groceries and set the pharmacy bag on the counter.

Fitz pulled a banana from the bunch his mother had just set on the table. He pulled down the peel and took a bite then leaned on the table. "What time is the party, mom? Should I get ready?"

Melinda looked at Phil and bit her bottom lip. "Fitz, honey, you know Jemma's not feeling well." The little boy nodded, swallowed and took another bite. "Well," she looked at Phil again, hating to disappoint her son.

"You're mom is trying to say that I won't be going with you today, Fitz. I don't feel very well myself so I'm staying home with Jemma while the rest of you get to try out Mack's brand new pool."

Fitz swallowed the last of his banana and wrapped an arm around his father's neck. "You don't really look too good, da. Perhaps a day of rest will do you well." The little boy shook his head.

"Thank you, Fitz." Phil smiled as Melinda took the boy and directed him out of the kitchen with a gentle tap to his bottom.

xx

"You are absolutely certain you are up to this?" Melinda asked, raising a hand to Phil's forehead.

He leaned back and away. "It's a cold, Mel not malaria. I'm sure I can handle our most well behaved, low maintenance child for a day." Phil frowned then sniffed a little sniffle. His voice was very nasal and a bit higher than usual.

"Still, you're not a hundred per…" Melinda started, unsure if she were more concerned with her husband or her sick child.

"Even at fifty percent, I think Jemma and I can handle it." Phil laughed which turned into a tickly cough. "You said she's just got a cough and a smidge of a temp. I'm pretty sure I can tell time and make sure she gets her medicine and stays comfortable."

Melinda smiled at his willingness and rolled her eyes to the ceiling at the ruckus coming from the room above them. She walked to the bottom of the staircase and called up. "Leopold James Coulson-Fitz, if you aren't down here in ten seconds…." She let the threat go unnamed as the noise stopped dead. A few seconds later a door slammed and a skinny little boy ran down the stairs dressed in bright yellow swim trunks, goggles secured on his face.

"I'm all ready, mom. I was just showing Jemma some diving skills. She's quite disappointed she's not coming along." Melinda put a hand to her mouth the hide her smile, feeling as if she were talking to a large yellow frog. "I'm gonna help Trip with the rest of the stuff." Before she could stop him, Fitz was racing past his father and toward the back door.

"Think he's excited?" Phil watched his younger son disappear out the back door and wondered how the little guy could see through those crazy goggles.

"I may need to ice him." Melinda snorted, referring to their term for keeping the crew quiet. "Apparently, Jemma is awake." She looked up the stairs. "I will take her temp before I leave. You'll have to do it every four to six hours, unless she feels very warm or gets worse."

Phil held up both hands. "Whoa, ho, ho…that is where I draw the line. I will do everything except…"

"Relax, Phil," Melinda smirked from halfway up the stairs. "I've got one of those ear thermometers from Maura. She says it's a bit more accurate," she stopped and turned pointing a finger at him. "But if it gets even close to one hundred one you call me first and then Maura. Got it?"

"Absolutely!" He feigned jumping to attention and threw her a formal salute. She rolled her eyes and continued up the stairs to check on her 'patient'.

Jemma rested back against her pillows and pulled her light blanket up to her chest. She wriggled down getting comfortable. Melinda looked at the thermometer in her hand and frowned. "Is it that bad?" Jemma's brows went up high.

Looking at the blush on the little girl's cheeks, Melinda brushed the stray hairs from her face and shook her head. "Not too bad, just a little over a hundred, but I feel bad leaving you all alone."

The little girl pulled her hand from under the blanket and squeezed her mother's hand. "I won't be alone, da will be here. We will be just fine. I wish I could be with you today, but…" she was interrupted by a string of painful coughs. Melinda cringed in sympathy. "I do understand that is it better for everyone that I stay at home." Her voice was deeper than normal, reverberating from her heavy chest.

Melinda squeezed the warm little hand that wrapped around her own and wished that Jemma was not so understanding. She wished her little girl could just be a little girl and be upset because she couldn't go to the pool party she had talked about since Mack had told the kids he was putting a pool in the yard of the new home he and Yoyo had purchased. Not that she wanted Jemma to be upset, but right now it seemed that the little girl was consoling her more than she was trying to make things easier for her.

"I'm so sorry, honey." Melinda picked up the little hand and kissed it.

"There'll be other opportunities for me to visit Mack and Yoyo. I'm not really much of a swimmer anyway." Again, Jemma was doing the consoling.

Melinda shook her head and reached for the cough syrup on the nightstand. She poured out the proper dosage and handed the little plastic cup to the girl who drank it in one gulp without so much as a grimace. "I don't really care for grape, but it isn't too bad." Jemma announced.

"How about a glass of water?" Melinda offered.

"Won't that dilute the effects of the medication?" The little girl wondered.

"Mama!"

Melinda turned at the sound of her youngest racing into the room. Jemma sat up straight to see what the commotion might be. This time the little girl was fully naked. She stopped in front of Melinda, hesitant to climb onto her sick sister's bed.

Bending down to the little girl's level Melinda could not help the slight laugh. "Where are your clothes, baobei?" She felt a twinge of déjà vu, having asked the same question a few hours earlier.

"Fizz toed me I cood skimmy dip. Him sayed you doesn't need no closes to skimmy dip." She bounced her little hands on her mother's knees. "We no finded my babing soup so him say just do natteral." She shook her head. Jemma pulled the blanket up to her eyes and coughed a laugh.

"This is becoming a habit, little one. Wouldn't you rather wear that beautiful new bathing suit we just picked out for the party?" Melinda grinned at her naked baby.

"But I no finded it." Those little hands bounced again.

Melinda pulled the baby into her lap. "That's because it is in Mama's bag all ready to go to Mack and Yoyo's house."

Skye leaned back against her mother and blinked at her sister. "Jemma no come a us." She shook her head.

"No she's going to stay here with daddy and get better." Melinda kissed the top of her head.

"Pooooo Jemma," Skye shook her head. "I hug hoer." She moved to climb across the bed, but was stopped quickly.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Skye." Jemma spoke before her mother had a chance to respond. "I've a very bad cold, baby. I don't want you to get sick again." The little girl cast a sad puppy look at her little sister.

Skye turned to her mother quickly, "Jemma get aiyo, mama? I no want aiyo." Her lip came out in a fine pout before she squirmed to escape her mother's embrace.

"Nobody's getting a shot," Melinda assured Skye, then looked to Jemma, "at least not today."

Jemma nodded at her mother's gentle inference then covered her mouth to hide a yawn. The cough syrup contained codeine and made the little girl very sleepy. Melinda patted the sides of Skye's thighs. "Okay, Lady Godiva, let's let Jemma get some sleep." She stood placing her little one on the floor, unable to snatch her as she ran for the door. She pulled the blanket up to Jemma's chin and kissed her forehead. "Feel better, baby." Jemma smiled a sleepy smile and nodded a few times before rolling to her side and closing her eyes.

xx

"Whoa, where are you going Streak?" Phil snagged Skye by the arm a few feet from the back door.

"I no streep, I lady A dive a and I helup Fizz and Frip lobe the car. We go to Mack a Oyo's to swim thems new poo-el." She explained as she struggled to get free.

He considered pulling her onto his lap but refused to share his cold with one of the kids who never did anything small. A simple cold for him and Jemma could mean another bout of bronchitis or possibly pneumonia for this little one. 'Where the hell is Melinda?' he wondered.

"Hey, angel, where's your clothes? Maybe you shouldn't go out without them." He smiled at the struggling toddler.

"I needa helup. Mama gots my babing soup in hoer bag." Skye informed him.

"Where is mama?" He asked as Skye began to whimper.

"Hoer is taken care to Jemma a cuz hoer is sick and no onies gonna get aiyo…today." Skye whined.

Phil reached down and caught the little girl's other arm, turning her toward him. Tears streamed over her cheeks. "Hey, sweet pickle…you don't want to go out there Trip will see your unnerwears." He smiled.

Skye stopped struggling and sniffled once. "Daddy, I is no a pickle and Frip no will see my unnerwears a cuz I gots none. Him ownee see my bum bum."

Phil raised his eyebrows. "Ooooo, well that's not good."

"What's not good?" May asked as she scooped Skye into her arms and sat on the nearest chair. She pulled a two piece blue polka dot bathing suit from somewhere and in a few minutes had the little girl smiling again.

Skye stood pushing her belly forward. "Looka Daddy, I gots poepa dops!" She pointed to the dots on her suit. She pulled the pink daisy that decorated the neckline toward her nose, "anna foer." She wrinkled her nose. "It no smells."

"That is a beautiful daisy, angel eyes." Phil informed her.

Skye stared at her father for a moment then ran to the hall bathroom. She returned a few seconds later with a tissue in each hand. She held them out to Phil. "Daddy, you need to blow you noses a cuz you is snuffy."

Phil took the offering and smiled weakly. "Thank you, Skye."

"Now I go helup Fizz and Frip? I show them my davey!" She pulled on the pink flower and waited for a reply. At Phil's nod she smiled broadly and dashed out the back door.

Melinda shook her head and pulled a large bag onto the chair she had just vacated. She pulled out a pair of small pink sandals and fingered through the contents triple checking that she had everything she needed. A second smaller bag set on the floor next to the chair. She resisted trying to zip the overstuffed bag closed and turned toward her husband who sat at the table nursing a now tepid cup of tea.

Melinda let out a breath and pushed her hair behind her ear. "Okay, Jemma is asleep. That cough syrup knocks her out for about two hours. She needs to eat and so do you." She moved across the kitchen and opened the fridge. "I picked up some chicken soup at Schwartz's. You'll need to heat it. Use a pot, not the microwave please." He nodded. She reached up to the cupboard and brought down a crinkly package. "Noodles…just follow the directions on the package. Use half, whole is too much." He nodded again. "Her temp is still at a hundred. Give her ten ml of Tylenol® when she wakes and make sure she eats." Phil nodded again and wondered when his wife would run out of breath. "I'd rather if she stays in bed but resting on the couch is okay for a little while." She looked up when the car horn blasted.

Fitz was doing jumping jacks in the driveway and Skye, who had also donned a pair of bright pink goggles, was hanging out of the car window. Trip was fighting a losing battle trying to pull the little girl back inside. Melinda grabbed her large bag and slung it over her shoulder then hefted the smaller bag onto her arm.

"Please promise me you'll take her temp and call me if it gets higher."

Phil crossed his heart and blew her a kiss as she pulled the door open and the car horn blasted again. She stopped and readjusted the bags before kissing her fingers and returning his airborne kiss. He watched as Trip ran to take the bags. Melinda merely pointed at the car and both younger children fell in line. A few minutes later he waved from the doorway as she backed out of the driveway.

xx

Jemma woke and listened to the unusual silence home. She took a deep breath resulting in another string of painful coughing then slide off the bed making a much needed trip to the bathroom. She stopped in front of her bedroom door and listened again. Unless the cold was affecting her ears there was no sound and she wondered if she was indeed alone. She pulled on a robe and slippers then padded quietly down the stairs.

Phil was asleep in the large recliner in the family room. The blinds were drawn and the room was dim and cool. Jemma tiptoed over to him and placed her hand on his forehead. He seemed a bit warm to her. She pulled the ear thermometer from her pocket where she had stashed it and slipped it next to his ear. It gave a soft blip and she turned it to see the output. The little girl shook her head. She pulled the throw from the back of the couch and carefully tucked it over her daddy then quietly moved to the kitchen. Noticing the package of noodles on the counter she pulled open the fridge and found the container of deli special chicken soup. She considered heating the soup and boiling some noodles but knew the rule was that she was not to use the stove or microwave without adult supervision. She weighed the consequences but still decided it was wiser to wait for da.

"Hey, princess," Phil sounded groggy but he stood in the doorway. "Aren't you supposed to be in bed?"

"It was too quiet." Jemma explained.

Phil laughed, "Weird, isn't it?"

"How do you feel, da?" Jemma stepped in front of him and rested a hand on his arm. "You're a bit warm." She pulled the thermometer out of her pocket and turned it for him to see. "One hundred point four, you should take some acetometophine."

Phil shook his head and smiled. "I think I'm supposed to be taking care of you, Jems."

"I'm feeling much better, da. I even took my own temperature with this little gizmo. It's exactly one hundred, so you beat me." Jemma smiled broadly then bit her lip and handed the thermometer to Phil. "But, maybe you should check just to be sure." Suddenly, she felt as if she'd done something wrong. She stepped closer to her dad and pushed her hair back to expose her ear.

Phil looked at the instrument in his hand. He had no idea how to work the dang thing.

"Just push the little blue button and place it right here." Jemma pointed to her ear and waited for Phil to complete the task. She heard the little blip and moved her head away. "Now just look at the little screen."

Phil squinted at the tiny screen. "Hmmm, how about one hundred point six? Seems like you win." He tapped the little girl's nose. "And maybe we both need a Tylenol cocktail." He picked up the bottle Melinda had left on the table and poured out the dose. He'd become an expert at dosing the fever reducer having dealt with both Fitz and Skye's recent illnesses. He handed it to her and held up a finger while he pulled a small bottle from his pocket and squeezed off the childproof top. He shook two white tablets into his hand and grabbed a small bottle of water from the fridge. "Bottoms up!" He smiled as he and his little girl downed their 'cocktails'.

"How about we get that soup started?" Phil smiled and Jemma nodded. "You grab the pots and I'll man the stove."

Twenty minutes later father and daughter sat across from each other sipping the hot soup.

"Mmmm," Phil waggled his eyebrows. "Bernie stills makes a great cup of soup." Jemma nodded as she slurped a long egg noodle. "When I was a kid, my mom made the best chicken soup. Made it every time I had a cold. Fixed me right up. Jewish penicillin they called it." He laughed as he blew across the hot liquid.

"Chicken soup really does have some medicinal qualities." Jemma informed him. "Consuming chicken noodle soup can reduce upper respiratory cold symptoms by moving around neutrophils in the body." She continued.

Phil nodded as he enjoyed the soup. He furrowed his brows a bit at the words she used.

"Neutrophils are a type of white blood cell that prevents infection in the body." Jemma explained then went on. "The ingredients in chicken noodle soup provide the body with a boost of vitamin A and selenium." Phil raised his brows as he swallowed. Jemma nodded and took a spoonful, swallowed and then continued. "Warm liquids, such as chicken broth, can be used to promote hydration _and_ clear your nasal passages."

"Fascinating," Phil smiled at his little genius. "I had no idea."

Jemma took a breath. "And there's more, the vegetables contain vitamins A, C, and other antioxidants that boost the immune system. The chicken is packed with protein and the noodles give you a serving of carbohydrates. It's just a perfect package."

"I can't say that my mom ever explained it like that. She just said it would help me feel better."

Jemma chewed for a moment as she thought. "Some people think it's just a comfort thing, but there have been scientific studies done. There is evidence that it does in fact help you get better. The bottom line is that soup is a liquid and plenty of liquids are the solution to healing the body from illness."

"That is a great thing to know. I will share it with your mama. She'll be just as fascinated, but I won't be surprise if she doesn't already know. Your Grandma May is a pretty good master of all things holistic and she makes a mean cup of soup herself. If she were here, we'd be inundated with her concoctions, like hot pepper tea." He waved his hand in front of his sticking out tongue. Jemma giggled as she pushed her bowl away.

Phil frowned, she hadn't eaten much but did a lot better than she had done a few weeks ago and besides the kid was sick. "Why don't you go get comfy on the couch and I'll clean up the mess."

The little girl shook her head. "It wouldn't be fair to you. I should help, after all it's my fault you had to miss the party today. I am sorry, da." She stood and picked up her bowl.

Phil reached across the table and took the bowl from her, then pulled her into his lap. "Hey, it is not your fault. I'm sick too."

Jemma rested her head against his chest. "But it's my fault you have a cold in the first place." She sighed.

"And how do you," he poked her belly, getting the desired giggle, "know I didn't give you the cold. In fact, I think we might have both caught our own colds."

"You know the incubation period for the common cold can be a little as ten hours from the time the virus enters the nasal passages." Jemma sighed.

Phil hugged her tighter and kissed her warm forehead. "It doesn't really matter. Do you think I would give up a whole day to spend with my princess? Just the two of us?"

Jemma turned into him and wrapped her thin arms around his middle. "Oh, da, you are the best. I do love you."

"Love you too, Princess Jemma." He squeezed her a bit pulling her closer. "Now, let's get this mess cleaned up and you can choose a movie." He looked up at the clock. "Two hours til your next dose of cough syrup, just enough time for a full feature."

True to Melinda's prediction, Jemma was sound asleep within fifteen minutes of taking the medication, breathing softly against Phil's chest on the large recliner. He smiled down at her and flicked on the early edition news but fell asleep himself before the first story completed.

Melinda found them that way when she and Trip carried two exhausted swimmers into the house at the end of a long eventful day.


End file.
